


An utterly non-de-escalatable situation

by Grand_Funk



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Gen, Male-Female Friendship, Their bro-ship fixed the economy and US public school system
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-03-11 11:01:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13522869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grand_Funk/pseuds/Grand_Funk
Summary: And in the deafening silence, Farah realized she had made a grave mistake."Oh my God, Farah, I didn't know you could sing!"





	An utterly non-de-escalatable situation

Farah's caution was unparalleled. Years of rigor, stringency, discipline, these gave her her edge. It was most certainly not just a bi-product of a heinously overbearing sense of dread that followed her like a steadily crescendo-ing down-tuned jaws theme. No, definitely not that. And she refused to think of it being that at all, even a little, because overbearing, soul crushing, ever present agita was not something that trained and regimented professionals had any time for. It lead to mistakes. It lead to over reaction—a quick trigger pulled on a fallen pencil or clumsily placed cup. It left you open. Over response leads to a dropped guard. Farah, so strong, so disciplined, so incredibly competent and so incredibly fearful, had dropped her guard. And in the utter and deafening silence, she realized that she had made a grave mistake.

 

"Oh my _God, Farah_ , I didn't know you could _sing!_ "

 

This was it. This was the end.

 

Words never came easily, and in times of blaring mental alarm bells they seemed to not like to come at all. So, Farah A. Black was left with nothing more than fish gaping and sputtering as she reeled, grasping at any straws to salvage an utterly non-de-escalatable situation. "Dirk! I… um… hi. I. I did not realize you had come in here." Air had ceased to exist and it seemed like her face had taken up rapidly blinking to replace the function of breathing. She perseveres. "How long have you been standing in here…? Somehow. Without me knowing…"

 

Working in personal security, it really stings when your dearest friend and human embodiment of a highlighter and a golden retriever's torrid 80s love affair is somehow able to sneak up on you. Farah makes a mental note—which she'll dwell on for the next six to ten months at any daily lull, time of sleep, or various point when a clock hand has the option of moving—to do better.

 

"Well, I wasn't. But then I just thought, 'You know, I'd really like to get some tea.' and so I went over to the kitchenette, but then I thought, 'No. Different tea.' and so I had to come over in here, kitchen proper, because there's some I keep on that high shelf that Todd can't see, because, did I tell you? He drank literally seven eighths of the last box I had of it and it is not the easiest to find. But _then_ I _heard_ you from outside. So, I just sort of stood… out there for a bit… before coming in just now."

 

Okay, so now Farah possessed the parameters, the extent, and potential collateral damage of this situation. Dirk had heard her sing. A lot. But since he had been listening to her from outside and had gone straight in, that meant he didn't have a chance to say anything to Todd. Despite months of driving, there had only been one singing incident and it had been highly manageable. But no. This is salvageable. This is salvageable and she just has to—

 

"Farah," and there's a pause. Two hands come up to not quite touch the sides of her head, but kind of pretend like they might think about it in the near future… possibly... if that were the right course of action, currently they are very unsure. "I can actually see you spiraling so much that _I'm_ getting dizzy."

 

Farah takes a breath. A beat. And another. Breath, beat, and so on. And then she responds. "I'm sorry." She shores herself up and makes eye contact. (After all, she is disciplined and poised.) "You know I'm not… good… at being caught off guard. And I didn't realize, I guess, just how comfortable I've gotten here."

 

Dirk Gently is soft. He is a veritable down-stuffed teddy bear of familial caring and vague emotional distress, and hearing an admission of home levels of comfort, in _his_ agency-house, from the inimitable Miss Farah A. Black—whose initials are both not lost on him and incredibly accurate, a point he would fight for thank you very much—has to be one of the top seven things he has ever experienced.

 

In this moment of glee, Farah also seemed to have stopped spinning. Dirk's bumper hands were free to return to what they were wont to do in any situation of abundant pleasant emotion: ball up and perform a vague waggle dance, even as his arms stay their ground. "I'm just... happy that this place has become comfortable enough for you to feel like it's home."

 

And isn't that something? For neither the first time nor second, not even the third, Farah stands, basking in the understanding that this place, here, with the family she's finally found is—

 

"Oh, but I am _definitely_ going to need you to do karaoke with me. Like, miracle that is youtube, we can go do it right now. I mean, do you have any idea how impossible it is to try and sing harmony with yourself? And it's just not as much fun without it so let's…"

 

Dirk continues to rattle off mile per minute statements on the intrinsic value of karaoke, as well as any impromptu word associations he comes across at any point along the way. He weaves his way around Farah, walking forwards, walking backwards, bumping into something hard enough to make him go forwards again, all while ushering her out and away from the relative safety of the kitchen... Ever closer to the surely horrific fate that awaits her at the agency's desk top…

 

On second thought. No. She had been right before. This was, in fact, the end. 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Alright! Trying this writing thing again bc it was fun the first time. Come chat with me on tungle if y'want: http://grandfunkrailrodeo.tumblr.com
> 
> Also, if you haven't heard Sam Barnett sing, please go treat yourself. I recommend (if you can find these. They're kind of cryptids but I got lucky) This Is Not Over Yet, because it's overwhelmingly perfect, and Not Getting Married Today bc he does the most with words in that one and it's both ridiculously impressive and just generally a good time. Both are with Jamie Parker and Deborah Crowe. Also you can find him and JP doing Agony from into the woods on tumblr and that song is just a general fucking hoot.


End file.
